


Empire of Dirt

by BeanieBaby



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types
Genre: Butterfly Effect, Genius Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Time Travel Fix-It, Tony's parents do not die, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:52:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8249764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeanieBaby/pseuds/BeanieBaby
Summary: Time Travel Fic.
Post Civil War, 46-year-old Tony Stark wakes up in his 21-year-old body. Armed with memories of the future, he saves his parents from the Winter Soldier and kickstarts a series of unexpected events.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [心之所殤](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546014) by [abbabccd05](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbabccd05/pseuds/abbabccd05)



> This came to me in a fit of bingeing Harry Potter fics. Time travel was always one of my favs.

The sound of a grand piano floated up the stairs, accompanied by a soft crooning voice singing Christmas carols.

Tony Stark opened his eyes.

The singing had stopped.

A moment later, a woman’s voice called out, “Tony, come downstairs. Your father and I are leaving for our trip.”

_But his father was dead. Howard had died over twenty years ago. Had he forgotten to turn the holographic simulator off before passing out in the lab last night?_

Swinging his legs off the giant king-size bed, Tony made his way to the nearest mirror. The face that stared back at him was a perfect replica of his 21-year-old self, a mop of dark unruly hair forever falling into defiant brown eyes. He'd been angry at the whole world at that age.

“Tony?” Maria’s voice came from right behind him, and he jumped, whirling around to find his long-deceased mother peering patiently at him from the doorway of his old bedroom. “Sweetheart, are you alright? You look a bit pale.”

“I-" His voice cracked when she reached out and cupped his cheek. No matter how intricate the holograms had been, they could never capture the warmth and life radiating from his mother. His eyes began to sting. Tony pressed his shaking hand over hers and inhaled the familiar comforting scent of Maria’s perfume.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” She sighed, gathering him into her arms when his tremors increased. “Have you been smoking again, Anthony?”

“No, I-I, none of this make any sense, Mother. How are you-" He stammered, at a loss for words.

“Maria, the car is here,” A brisk voice spoke from the doorway, and Tony lifted his head from his mother’s shoulder to see Howard, alive and well, standing impatiently at the door, suit jacket in one arm and a silver-tipped cane in the other. His gaze frosted over with disapproval when he saw Tony’s red-rimmed eyes.

“Howie, I think Tony is sick,” His mother said worriedly, pressing a palm to Tony’s sweaty forehead.

“I’m sure I don’t have to express my concerns again,” Howard replied cooly, “the boy is clearly high from whatever alcohol or drugs he took at one of his numerous-“ his lip twisted in distaste, “parties.”

“I’m not high,” Tony yelled, anger surfacing at his father's clear disdain. “This isn’t real. I’m dreaming. You guys aren’t real.”

“See what I mean, Maria,” Howard said with cold satisfaction, but Tony had stopped paying attention.

_His mother had said that they were going on a trip. There had been Christmas carols. The car was here..._

“What’s today’s date?” He suddenly demanded. Maria’s concerned expression was growing, as was Howard’s scowl.

“It’s the 16th, Darling,” She answered, confused. “Your father and I are leaving for our month-long Christmas vacation. We talked about this.”

“No, no, no. You can’t go!” Tony burst out suddenly, panic building in his chest. The 16th was the night of the assassination, cleverly disguised as a car accident along an empty road. The Winter Soldier was going to kill them both and-

“Honey, what are you talking about?” Maria’s confusion was quickly turning into quiet displeasure.

“You can’t go. You have to cancel the trip, Mother. There’s going to be a horrible accident, and-” Tony babbled as Howard took one of Maria’s hands and began to pull her out of the room.

“Anthony Stark!” Maria suddenly raised her voice. He fell silent, stunned. She exhaled wearily. “Sweetheart, I really don’t want to believe your father’s accusations about your drinking or drug habits, but this is ridiculous.”

“You don’t understand-“ He tried again.

“Yes, I do. Now, not another word from you,” Maria interrupted firmly, taking his face in her hands and pressing placating kisses to both of his cheeks. “Take care of yourself while we’re away, Love.”

His parents made their way down the grand staircase. Seconds later, the door slammed shut behind them. Tony heard the sound of wheels crunching over gravel.

He pinched himself on the forearm as hard as he could. The spot flared white-hot with pain. He was still facing the sleek redwood front door of his grandfather’s old family estate instead of the glass automated ones in his Malibu mansion.

He was 21 again, but the last thing Tony remembered was supporting Rhodey through his painful physical therapy after the fallout with Steve Rogers. Those memories belonged to the 46-year-old Tony Stark.

Barnes, no the Winter Soldier, was going to strike _tonight_.

_Should he intervene? Did he really have a choice?_

There was a chain of keys in on one of the drawers in Howard’s study. Tony knew by memory that they led to the old vintage cars his father kept in the basement level of the house.

He grabbed the keys and raced down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

Tony had every detail of the incident memorized in the back of his head, so it didn't take him too long to track down the white limo his parents were in. Still, it was a shock to see the car suddenly swerve wildly into the trees and a dark figure separate itself from the shadows.

Barnes’s face was hidden behind a black mask and protective night-vision goggles. A compact sniper rifle was strapped to his back. He moved purposefully toward Howard’s side of the car and tore the door clean off. The Soldier bent low and fisted his unconscious father’s shirt.

Tony staggered from his hiding spot, heart pounding so hard he could barely choke out the trigger words he’d memorized from the encounter with Zemo.

His voice was tinny in the vast night, but the Winter Soldier froze nonetheless.

“ _Release him!_ ” Tony shouted in Russian.

The gloved fist unclenched and Howard Stark toppled over onto the grass, bleeding freely from a cut above his left brow.

“ _Abort mission! Terminate! Stop!_ ” Tony tried a variation of Russian words when the Soldier made to approach his mother’s side of the car. The assassin paused.

Then, the Winter Soldier turned his masked face toward Tony.

“ _Ready to comply,_ ” said the Soldier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony blew off the layer of thick dust and traced his thumb over the piece of fraying duct tape where 17-year-old Tony had written the six-letter acronym he’d come up with during a drunken fit of inspiration in messy permanent marker.
> 
> J.A.R.V.I.S.
> 
> “Hello, old friend,” Tony whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation in italics are in RUSSIAN.

Howard's pulse was sluggish but strong when Tony heaved his father's limp body upright into a sitting position. He moaned feebly, and Tony realized that his left wrist was bent at an odd angle.

Broken wrist, but still alive and kicking. That was good enough for now.

Tony made to get up and inspect his mother’s injuries, but Howard’s uninjured hand snagged his shirt sleeve.

“My son…leave my son alone…please…I beg you...” He rasped, struggling to see through the blood dripping into his eyes from the deep cut on his forehead. Tony swallowed past the hot lump in his throat and squeezed his old man’s hand.

“He’s safe. I swear,” He promised, eyes stinging.

Maria was out cold, her body slumped against the seatbelt holding her in place. Tony pried open the door and checked his mother’s pulse jus to be sure. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it under his fingertips. Then, Tony did a quick search and retrieved a big clunky Nokia cellphone from the glovebox compartment. He hefted it in his hand, marveling for a second at how heavy the thing was as he made his way back to his father. Back in the 90s, Stark Industries hadn’t taken any interest in the telecommunication market yet.

He dialed the police first, quickly informing them of the accident and leaving his own name out in the report.

Then, Tony paused and considered his options. Phoning the police would surely bring about public coverage of the car accident, and Hydra would strike again if they knew the Starks had survived. He needed someone to watch over them while he dealt with the problematic Winter Soldier. He quickly dismissed the idea of calling Obadiah Stane. He'd have to keep an eye on his father's business partner in the future, but at the moment-

It came to him suddenly.

_Rhodey._

He could call Rhodey.

In 1991, Rhodey had briefly been stationed at the airbase outside of New York. It would take him roughly an a hour to get there, but he was the one person in the world that Tony could completely trust. He tried a couple of different numbers until he was patched through. 

Rhodey’s voice wasn't quite welcoming when he finally picked up, and it took Tony a few seconds to figure out why. He remembered that they’d had a massive fallout due to his incessant partying and drinking after MIT, and it had been Tony's parents’ sudden unexpected death that had brought Rhodey back, but now that Howard and Maria were very much alive. Would he still be forgiven so readily?

“Tony? Are you there?” Concern had seeped reluctantly back into Rhodey's voice, and Tony realized he hadn’t said a word since his best friend picked up the phone.

“Rhodey, I- my parents h-had an accident on the freeway,” He stumbled over the words, the pressure that had been building behind his eyes finally overspilling into hot salty tears at the sound of Rhodey’s familiar voice.

“Are you alright?” Rhodey demanded quickly. Tony could hear the loud rustle of him putting on clothes in the background, the jingle of keys, the slam of a door and loud footsteps echoing down what sounded like a staircase. “I’m coming, tell me where you are.”

“I-I need you to go to my parents, Rhodey. You have to keep them safe,” Tony insisted. The Winter Soldier, immobile the whole time, had made a short aborted movement in Tony’s direction when he’d started crying as if his distress had somehow penetrated the Soldier’s programming, but he’d gone still again.

“What about you? Are you hurt?” Rhodey sounded frustrated and a little out of breath from racing down the stairs.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, I’ll meet you at the hospital in a couple of hours,” Tony assured him, hurriedly wiped his wet face, and told Rhodey where his parents were. Then, he hung up resolutely before Rhodey could ask more questions. Tony took a few breaths to ground himself as he turned to Barnes and gesturing toward the back of the car.

“ _Open it_ ,” He commanded in Russian. The Hydra assassin complied.

The super soldier serum was in the trunk of the car, just as Tony had remembered. Howard and Maria had lied about going on a vacation. He grabbed the silver suitcase and slammed the trunk shut. Barnes stared at him blankly from behind his black mask. Tony could hear the sound of sirens approaching in the empty night. He took one last lingering look at his unconscious parents before turning to the trees.

“ _Let’s go,_ ” He told the Winter Soldier.

 

* * *

 

Tony didn't technically have a place of his own in New York City in the 90s. His parents owned a large vacation home on Long Island, several high-end apartments in the heart of Manhattan and another large mansion on the outskirts of the city, but none of them had what he needed at the moment.

But what _did_ he need?

A padded cell with 5-inch steel walls, perhaps.

He was hardly going to get that, so he was going to have to improvise. Tony chanced a look over at the silent figure sitting in the passenger seat and sighed.

“ _Put on your seatbelt,_ ” He said after a pause.

Barnes did as he was told.

Tony gunned the engine.

 

* * *

 

Twenty years ago, the storage warehouse where he had kept his old shit from MIT had been situated along the East River where a new shopping mall now stood. But in 1991, it had still been an uninhabited part of Manhattan where the ships unloaded their cargo containers and druggies got their high. He’d rented one back then when it had been cool to invent crap in warehouses and lead the exciting double-lives of hipster nerds.

Two green Benjamins slipped discreetly into the hands of the suspicious owner got him the spare key and his warehouse number.

Tony had expected the rancid smell of decay and dust when he unlocked the bunker, but the place reeked strongly of day-old booze, unwashed clothes, and engine grease. Tony tripped over an empty beer bottle on his way to the light switch and put his hand over something cold and slightly fuzzy. Trying not to cringe or shriek, he flipped the switch.

The warehouse looked even less appealing now that the lights were on. He carefully withdrew his right hand from the moldy piece of apple pie balanced precariously atop a metal cabinet. A few furry bodies scuttled out of sight into the shadows.

“How did I not die from food poisoning?” He muttered to himself as he cleared out a path for the Winter Soldier to follow him inside. Something tittered and stirred in a corner, and before Tony could process what, Barnes had shoved him unceremoniously aside and hurled what looked like a small dagger in the direction of the disturbance. Tony hadn’t even seen where he’d pulled the knife from.

“ _Stop!_ ”

Barnes froze at Tony’s command. The clawed robot in the corner was chirping loudly in confused distress, the hilt of the knife buried in one of its main joints.

“Jesus Christ, Dum-E,” He side-stepped the Winter Soldier with a hurried “ _stay down,_ ” and went to check on the bot. His baby seemed fine, a bit spooked, but nothing Tony couldn’t fix with a screwdriver. Dum-E whirled hysterically and latched onto the back of Tony’s shirt when he tried to go back to Barnes and physically attempted to drag him away from the dangerous figure standing immobile in the center of Tony’s mess. At the ruckus, his other ‘children’ gradually stirred to life. U was flexing threateningly in another corner. Tony hadn’t given U wheels yet, but the portable toaster had rolled up to the Soldier’s foot and was head-butting Barnes’s ankle with a relentless fury. Barnes glanced down with disinterest but didn’t make a move to stop it. The Soldier’s programming probably didn’t even register it as a possible threat.

“It’s okay, he’s not gonna hurt me,” Tony reassured the robots and shushed them. He cleared a chair and told Barnes to sit while he dug up a temporary spot to hide the super soldier serum. Tony took the serum out of the sealed suitcase and stuffed them down a ratty pair of old woolen socks before burying that underneath a mountain of oily rags. It was snowing when he ran outside and hurled the suitcase into the nearby East River with all his might. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe they wouldn’t keep a tracker on the thing, but it was 1991, even SHIELD hadn’t gotten that far with the advancement of GPS systems that could trace where the suitcase had been previously.

When he came back in, head clearer than ever before from the shock of cold outside, Tony made his way over to a hidden shelf in the back of the warehouse and pulled out an old dusty circuit board from one of the drawers. He’d tossed his invention in a fit of anger when the system had failed to gain his father’s approval after he had graduated MIT.

Tony blew off the layer of thick dust and traced his thumb over the piece of fraying duct tape where 17-year-old Tony had written the six-letter acronym he’d come up with during a drunken fit of inspiration in messy permanent marker.

J.A.R.V.I.S.

“Hello, old friend,” He whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a comment and kudos if you enjoy! Happy Halloween guys!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He paused with his hand on the doorknob. 
> 
> “I have made many mistakes in my life and have many regrets, but you…you were never one of them.” Howard exhaled shakily, “you are, and always will be my greatest creation, Tony. I want you to know...I need...you to understand...” 
> 
> Tony clenched his teeth against the sting in his eyes, and tightened his fingers over the doorknob. Blood pounded in his ears, a dull rushing roar over the harsh rattling of his heart behind his ribcage. 
> 
> “Get some rest, Dad.” He closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit of angst and an introduction of an old friend. 
> 
> Drop me a comment! Happy Thanksgiving, my lovely readers!

The festive Christmas decorations in the lobby of the hospital where the EMTs had taken Tony’s parents clashed horribly with the grim-faced visitors and patients. Tony pushed his way past a couple of startled nurses and caught sight of Rhodey’s familiar leather jacket.

“Tony,” Rhodey sprang up when he skidded to a breathless halt in front of him. “You look terrible. Are you alright? What’s going on?”

“How are my parents?” Tony asked hurriedly, nodding his thanks when Rhodey pushed the fresh cup of coffee into his freezing hands. He gulped down the scalding hot liquid while Rhodey eyed him with clear concern.

“Your mother is still in surgery, but they say she’s going to pull through. The doctors just wheeled Howard out a few minutes ago, broken left wrist and forearm, three cracked ribs and a minor concussion. I was just going to call you.”

Tony took a deep breath and glanced along the corridor. It was empty except for a tiny girl seated on a plastic bench a few feet away, a bulging handbag that must belong to her mother clutched in her thin arms. She looked to be about four or five years old, fiery red curls peeking out from underneath a small black hat and pale cheeks still round with baby fat. His eyes lingered on her for a long moment, mind struggling to figure out what was wrong with the picture. Rhodey huffed quietly and Tony tore his eyes away. He pulled his best friend toward the emergency exit at the end of the hall.

“Are you going to explain what the hell is going on?” Rhodey hissed impatiently when the heavy doors swung shut behind them. “Because last time I remember, we were fighting.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry about that. Everything is my fault, Rhodey, but I need you to listen to me very carefully because you're the only person I can trust right now, and I need your help. This was an assassination attempt.”

Rhodey’s mouth dropped open in a soundless gape. “A w-what? I mean, of course I’ll help you, but why would someone want to-”

“My parents were working on a secret project developing more super soldiers like Captain America for the government. They were en route to deliver a finished version of the super soldier serum tonight but were intercepted by an assassin who-”

“-set up the attempted murders as a car accident.” Rhodey finished for him. Tony could see the gears churning in Rhodey’s head. “They need protection.”

“Yes, there’s a sleeper informant in the organization, so I can’t trust anyone right now,” Tony nodded.

“Do you know who it might be?” Rhodey asked.

“I have some ideas,” Tony said coldly, remembering exactly who had been working for Hydra all along. “But they won’t make another obvious attempt on their lives until they track down the serum and confirm that everything is there. So right now, I need you to gather some of your most trusted subordinates and set up temporary protection for my parents until I can dispose of the serum and ensure their safety.”

Rhodey gave him a funny look, “Subordinates, Tones? I’m a freaking lieutenant. What subordinates?”

_Right. Not a colonel yet._

Tony coughed and quickly went on, “Some of your close air force buddies? Ask them a favor? I can pay them if they’d like.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll think of something. This is a lot to take in, but just one more question, how do you know all this?”

“I’m a goddamn genius, I know everything,” Tony pulled his face into the closest semblance of a heartless grin he could manage and pulled open the door. “Now let’s go get some answers from my old man.”

 

* * *

 

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Tony asked as Howard’s eyes fluttered open for the first time after the surgery. His gaze focused with some difficulty upon his son, and for a moment immense relief washed over Howard’s bruised features, his fingers fluttered against the back of Tony’s hand as if to make sure Tony wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

Then he croaked in a hoarse voice, “Your mother?”

“She’s still in surgery,” Tony said in a clipped voice. Behind him, Rhodey shifted restlessly.

“Don't bullshit me, Howard. I know about the serum, I know you were on your way to the Pentagon, so you might as well spill,” Tony continued impatiently, “Maria is seriously injured because of you. How many more of your loved ones are you willing to hurt in order to serve SHIELD’s secret agenda?”

Howard’s fingers clamped down tightly around Tony’s hand. Anger and disbelief flashed across his father’s face as he demanded, “How did you know, Tony? Have you been sneaking around in my encrypted files again? I told you not to-”

The frustration and hurt Tony had been choking down since he’d first opened his eyes to this messed up past finally erupted forth in a tidal wave of hateful words, “You think I don’t ever pay attention, do you Howard? That I’m just some stupid junkie alcoholic who isn’t worthy of the Stark name, who you're ashamed of calling a son. Well, guess what, I'm ashamed too, I’m ashamed to be your son, you selfish piece of shi-”

“Tony.” Rhodey’s hands landed upon his shoulders, stopping him mid-rant before he could spit more insults at Howard's pale face. “Now’s not a good time.”

Howard’s cold, intimidating facade seemed to crumple under his hot glare, and for one horrifying moment, Tony saw him for what he truly was: just an ordinary old man, gray hair liberally streaked with silver, and a lifetime of remorse and regret locked away behind those glassy brown eyes.

Then the iron mask slipped back into place, and Howard Stark straightened his spine like the undefeatable bastard he was, his attention shifting to focus on Rhodey. “And I suppose you would have your friend present when we talk?”

Tony poured his old man a glass of water and stabbed a straw none too gently into the liquid, “Yes, whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Rhodey.”

Howard sighed, and after a long pause, said, “I only wanted to protect you, Tony.”

“Ignorance isn’t protection, Howard.” Tony snapped. Rhodey squeezed his shoulder in warning. “I would’ve found out eventually.”

To his surprise, his old man laughed shakily, his palm pressed to his throbbing ribs. His voice was part fond and part exasperated when he next spoke, “You were always too smart for your own good, Tony.”

“The serum, Howard. I want to know why they needed to kill you for it.”

“Yes, I was getting to that,” Howard took a small sip of water, his face even paler than before, and Tony couldn’t help the tiny twinge of worry and guilt rising in his chest. “When Captain America was successfully created, Dr. Erskine and I drew twelve vials of Steve Rogers's blood for research purposes. During the war, five vials were lost to Hydra, leaving only seven in our possession. Then the good doctor died, taking his creation to his grave. Shortly after Steve disappeared, the vials of blood were confiscated and given to top government scientists in an attempt to crack the secrets to the serum. They were down to three vials when they finally contacted me in one last desperate attempt.”

“And you succeeded?” Tony asked.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” Howard admitted. Sweat was beading along his hairline now. “I created them and handed the serum off to an assigned SHIELD agents. I assume they conducted human trials and were unsuccessful because they kept coming back for modified versions.”

“And you never questioned those human trials?” Tony couldn’t keep the disgust out of his voice.

“I didn’t want to think about them, I-”

“Just wanted the money and fame. You wanted to feel important like you did during the war, didn’t you, Howard? Like what you were doing was for some greater good, instead of feeding your own selfish ego.”

“Tony-” His father swayed a little, his face completely void of any color now. The words were like physical blows, carving deep bleeding grooves into Howard’s exposed skin. Tony felt a grim satisfaction for managing to hurt him the way Howard had been hurting them all these years.

“I think that’s enough for one night,” Rhodey interrupted as he stepped past Tony and eased Howard onto his back. He tucked the covers over his shaking form and pressed a hand over Howard’s sweaty brow. Rhodey frowned, “He’s burning up. I’d better call the nurse.”

Tony was left alone with the labored sounds of his father's breaths.

“This batch of the serum used up the last of Steve’s blood,” Howard rasped, half-delirious with fever and the post-operation drugs, “I've spent my whole life perfecting it.”

“Yeah?” Tony did not look up. His old man’s silent plea was obvious in the heavy silence.

“Then maybe it’s a good thing that nobody ever finds it," Tony ran a hand over his exhausted face and moved toward the door. “I’m going to check up on Mom.”

_“Tony.”_

He paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I have made many mistakes in my life and have many regrets, but you…you were never one of them.” Howard exhaled shakily, “you are, and always will be my greatest creation, Tony. I want you to know...I need...you to understand...”

Tony clenched his teeth against the hot sting in his eyes and tightened his fingers over the doorknob, the sharp unforgiving edges digging spots of pain into the flesh of his palm. Blood pounded in his ears, a dull rushing roar over the harsh rattling of his heart behind his ribcage.

“Get some rest, Dad.” He closed the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

“You alright?” Rhodey found him standing outside his mother’s room, silently watching the nurse fuss over her unconscious form. Tony took several deep breaths and turned to smile at his concerned friend.

“I will be,” He said tiredly.

“I can stay and watch over them. You should get some rest.”

As if he could. Tony still had a huge problem sitting in his storage unit waiting for him to get back to. He’d commanded the Winter Soldier to stay before rushing to the hospital.

“Tony, you know you’re not alone, right? I’m here.”

“I know,” He reached out and squeezed Rhodey’s arm. He’d pushed Rhodey away once before, insistent upon doing his vigilante thing alone, but not this time around. He’d learned his lesson. “Thank you, Rhodey.”

The nurse smiled at them when she slipped from Maria’s private observation room. Her shiny coppery hair glimmered like dying embers in the fluorescent light, and Tony suddenly realized what had been nagging at the back of his mind since he’d seen the red-haired girl with the big handbag.

She had been too still, her movements too calculated and precise for a child her age. He had caught a flash of familiar vibrant green eyes beneath the black hat.

_It couldn’t be._

Rhodey jumped when Tony rushed after the nurse.

“Excuse me, have you seen a little girl? She’s about this tall, red hair, black hat, and blue dress. She had a brown handbag with her,” He demanded. The nurse shook her head, visibly alarmed.

Rhodey rushed after him when Tony dashed over to the hallway where he’d first spotted her. The child was nowhere to be found.

“Rhodey, I need your car keys. Right now.”

“What’s going on?”

“The girl. The little girl who was sitting here half an hour ago,” Tony yelled, fisting Rhodey’s jacket. He yanked the keys from Rhodey's lax fingers. “She’s one of them.”

“One of whom?” Rhodey called after him, utterly bewildered. “Tony! Where are you going?!”

 

* * *

 

When Tony got back to the storage units, the manager was face-down on his table. Tony spared a hurried second to verify that the man was indeed still alive. His pulse was sluggish under Tony’s fingers. He grabbed the baseball bat leaning against the corner and raced back to Rhodey's car. It wouldn’t be much against a trained Red Room assassin, but he was hoping for the element of surprise to be on his side, and preferably the Winter Soldier as well.

The door to his storage unit was ajar. Tony kicked it open with a resounding bang, the heavy bat held in front of him like a battle ax.

The small redhead girl looked up from where she was rifling through Tony’s messy sock drawer, a bag of the super soldier serum clutched in one tiny hand. Under his incredulous eyes, she slipped it into her oversized handbag. A few feet away, the Winter Soldier was sprawled face-down on the ground, body seizing with what looked like painful muscle contractions. Tony could see a dart of some kind sticking out of the side of his neck.

She zipped her bag shut and stood calmly, managing to exude an air of great menace in all of her 40-inch glory.

Tony tightened his fingers over the handle of the baseball bat.

“Natasha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Natasha is very intimidating. Poor Tony can't catch a break. He's going to have a meltdown about the whole time-travel thing later. 
> 
> Howard and Tony still need to work on their relationship, but the healing will begin soon. It is something of an abusive relationship, to be honest. But there is still love between them. It's very complicated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha is around 6 years-old if you want a reference age.

Technically, they opened at seven, but the little diner on the outskirts of New York City didn’t get a lot of customers in the wee hours of the morning, especially not in the winter months when the sun didn’t fully rise until eight or nine, so Barb was thoroughly taken-aback when she heard the sound of the bell signaling the arrival of a customer out in front.

It was a young man, dressed in a too-thin shirt and shivering from the heavy snow, his eyes too wide and face too pale. It made him look younger than he probably was, eighteen or nineteen, about the age of her son when he had passed away. Barb sighed and cleared her throat to catch his attention.

“Coffee?” She called out, and for a moment, the boy looked completely lost, as if his mind hadn’t quite caught up to his body. Then, running a hand through his messy brown locks, he nodded jerkily and took a seat in one of the booths by the window. She went to retrieve the pot of fresh coffee her husband had made from the kitchen.

“Kid’s probably a drunk or junkie,” Ed muttered in disgust, not bothering to look up from the morning paper. Barb briefly saw the big blocky letters on the front page before Ed turned to the sport’s section — _Howard and Maria Stark Injured in Car Accident._

“Don’t say that, Edmund,” She reprimanded before heading outside to pour some coffee for the poor boy. He was hunched in on himself and staring unseeingly ahead, the fingers of his left hand drumming erratically on the grey tabletop. He flinched when Barb set down the cup of coffee.

“Want something to eat?” She asked kindly. He shook his head jerkily at the same time his stomach growled loud enough for Barb to pick out beneath the soft crooning soundtrack of Elvis Presley her husband kept on a never-ending loop in the diner. She smiled when he ducked his head, ears slowly going pink under her scrutiny.

“Come on back, son, you’re the only customer and my knees don’t feel like walking the distance today,” Barb motioned for the boy to follow her into the kitchen and turned on the stove, “there’s nothing a fresh pot of coffee and some fluffy eggs won’t fix.”

“Tony,” He mumbled, wiping at his wet hair with a sleeve and taking a seat in one of the chairs, “my name’s Tony.”

“Barbara, but you can call me Barb,” Barb smiled and placed the pot of coffee at his elbow, “help yourself to as much as you want, Tony.”

The kid gulped down two cups of black coffee before his shoulders relaxed a little, and for a few minutes, there was only the sound of sizzling eggs and bacon between them. Barb introduced her husband when he shuffled over to check on them and steal some of the hot coffee, but Tony didn’t seem too keen to open his mouth again.

She set the cooked eggs and bacon in front of him and said, “I’ve got chocolate pancakes too if you want some, it's my mother's recipe.”

“Thank you,” He smiled a little at her words and forked a piece of golden egg into his mouth. Barb hid her chuckle when his eyes widened and began shoveling food into his mouth like a boy his age ought to. She exchanged an amused look with her husband, who grudgingly shook his head at the sight.

“You and your strays,” Ed sighed, lips quirking a little.

“Slow down, son, there’s more where that came from,” Barb reminded gently. He stuck out his empty plate with a sheepish look two minutes later and she dutifully piled more onto it. He ate slowly this time, stopping to properly chew his food, and Barb was glad to see a bit of color returning to Tony’s pale cheeks.

“Whatever you’re dealing with, it’ll be ok,” Ed’s words surprised them both. Her husband was busy squinting down at the crossword puzzle at the back of the newspaper, his reading glasses perched haphazardly over his nose.

“How do you know that?” The kid bristled, dark eyes suddenly alight with a mixture of guarded pain and anger.

“When you have lived as long as I have, _boy_ ,” Ed growled, pausing to aim a glare at Tony, “you learn that humans are a lot more resilient than they're given credit for. Whatever thing is giving you grievances is going to pass, and you will go on."

"You have no idea what I'm going through," the boy muttered darkly, and it was as if a ripple had passed over his face and Barb was suddenly looking into the eyes of a much older, more defeated man.

“It can’t be worse than losing a child, can it? And I'm still chugging along.” Ed pointed out, and Barb placed a hand over her husband’s thin shoulder, silently offering her strength and support. The fight in the boy seemed to go out at the quiet words.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize,” Ed interjected before Tony could open his mouth, “the pain will always be there, but you find ways to cope, and with time, it becomes a comfort in some way, reminds me my boy Waylon _had_ been here once.”

“What would you have done if you were given a second chance?” The kid asked with an almost desperate air. Barb piled some pancakes onto Tony's plate and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "What would you do if you had the chance to prevent that from happening?"

Ed frowned, “that’s a dangerous road to go down, kid, thinking about the 'what if.'”

Tony bit his lip, looking disappointed at his answer.

“But if I did, I’d try my hardest to change things,” Ed continued, not looking up from his crosswords, “we owe it to them, hell, we owe it to ourselves.” He heaved a heavy sigh and met Tony’s eyes, “we can’t change the past, boy, and it ain’t any good dwelling on it. You and I, we live in the present, and that's the only part we can influence.”

“I lost some really important things last night,” the boy swallowed and said with some difficulty, “things that can do a lot of harm in the wrong hands.”

“What are you, James Bond?” Ed snorted, ignoring his wife's light swat.

Tony’s mouth twitched a little, “something like that.”

“Well, in that case, Mr. Bond, what are you still sitting here for? Go hunt down the bad guys and save the girl,” Ed chuckled.

“The girl is kind of where the problem is,” Tony confessed, rubbing at what looked like a puncture wound on the side of his neck.

“Aren’t they always?” Ed shot back, and the kid finally smiled at this.

“You need something for that, honey?” Barb asked, fussing over Tony's injury like she’d done in the past with her own son. The familiarity of it made her heart ache, but it was a good kind of ache, and she welcomed it like an old friend. Tony shook his head but his smile was still filled with silent gratitude as he stood and offered to help with the dirty dishes.

“You have no idea how much I appreciated this meal, Barb,” He said quietly as they dried the dishes between them, “how much I needed to hear those words from someone.”

“Well, you know where to find us, dear,” Barb smiled back and reached out to smooth back the boy’s unruly hair away from his eyes, “come back for a meal any time.”

“Preferably when you’re less of a wet blanket, kid,” Ed cackled, "and you can help me with the crosswords next time."

“Of course,” Tony grinned, bright and energetic for once.

The bell over the front door chimed to signal the arrival of people, and Barb unconsciously turned to the clock on the mantel. It was barely six. They usually never got customers this early.

“We sure are busy today,” she mused, drying her hands and slowly making her way out of the kitchen.

“Wait, Barb,” Tony called after her, suddenly sounding panicked.

The front of the diner was oddly empty. Barb rounded the counter and blinked at the sight of the small expressionless redheaded child standing there. There wasn’t an adult in sight.

“Are you lost, darling?” She asked kindly. The child lifted her arm and Barb’s vision went dark.

 

* * *

 

Tony caught the old woman when her legs gave out beneath her, head lolling onto his shoulder like a puppet with severed strings.

“No, don’t hurt him!” He gasped when Natasha sidestepped him gracefully and headed to the back where Ed was sitting. Pulling Barb into his arms, Tony stumbled after her, only to be greeted by the sight of the old man slumped over the table, spilt coffee dripping slowly over the pristine table cloth like dark blood.

“You have the serum, what more do you want from me?” Tony’s voice cracked, “they had nothing to do with this.”

Natasha regarded him calmly.

“I didn’t kill them,” She said finally, “just a tranquilizer dart. I am only allowed to kill the targets in the mission.”

“They’re like sixty years old, tranquilizers are probably going to kill them anyway, your little murderess,” Tony hissed, shakily checking Barb’s pulse after setting her down gently in one of the chairs. It was weak but still there. He exhaled and buried his face in his trembling hands, the all-consuming panic attack he’d experienced after waking up with the Super Soldier Serum gone starting to catch up again.

“So I’m one of those targets, then?” Tony finally asked when the shaking subsided.

“No, Howard and Maria Stark were,” Natasha said, “I was deployed when the Asset failed to track down the serum.”

“Then why you were at the hospital?” Tony asked.

“Keeping an eye on the targets and waiting for you to leave the warehouse,” She said cooly, “do you really think the Asset’s missions are not monitored? It has a tracking chip implanted in the prosthetic arm that allows its employers to track it at all times.”

“He, not ' _it,_ '” Tony stressed, glaring at the child.

"Why are you telling me all this?” He demanded, his fingers itching to reach for his phone. If Hydra were aware of the Winter Soldier’s whereabouts all this time, he doubted Barnes would still be waiting for him in that storage unit in Manhattan.

There was a pause before she opened her mouth again, and this time, Natasha sounded less certain, “before, you said you could help me get away from all this. Did you really mean it?”

Tony was utterly taken-aback by the question. He could vaguely remember making that promise before he passed out from the tranquilizers in a last ditch effort to stop Natasha from taking off with the Serum, but he hadn’t really thought his words through. He wanted to help her, but there was so much Tony didn’t know about the former Russian assassin. Natasha’s past had always been shrouded in shadow and smoke even after they'd become friends. But right now, it wasn’t the hardened woman staring up at him, it was the wide-eyed child who had been forced to experience too much in too short time, and Tony found himself dropping down to kneel in front of the little girl.

“I promise you, Natasha, I will do everything in my power to keep them from you, but-”

“I still have the serum,” She interrupted, peering at him patiently.

“You still have the-” Tony blinked, unable to believe his ears, “really?!”

“It’s in the car outside,” She pointed toward the front of the diner. Then, turning to Tony with her small hand still outstretched, Natasha said, “the serum in exchange for freedom from my employers.”

“Deal,” Tony breathed, taking her hand tightly in his.

 

* * *

 

“Why do you call me that?” The little girl trotting at his side asked as they carefully closed the doors of the diner behind them.

“Call you what?” Tony returned absentmindedly. He was still worried about the kind old couple lying unconscious in the back.

“Natasha, it is not my name,” She said, stopping beside a car in the empty street.

“It’s not?” Tony realized his mistake a second too late. Of course she wasn’t named Natasha. The Natasha Romanov he knew was one of many alias she used at the time. Thinking hard, he said, “It could be. Do you like it?”

Natasha shrugged and pulled open the car door. “If you are thinking about calling an ambulance for the owners, I suggest doing so after we get rid of the dead body.”

“What dead body?” Tony asked just he saw the slumped form lying in the backseat of the old van.

“Relax, it’s my handler,” The little girl said, climbing into the passenger seat. “I had to poison him or he was going to report back to the other party about the Asset’s whereabouts, and about me.”

“Not gonna lie, but you are actually terrifying,” Tony told her. Natasha smiled thinly, the bloodthirsty expression only slightly ruined by the baby fat in her cheeks. Tony tried to smile back but didn’t feel like it convinced anyone.

“We’ll come back for your car after we get rid of the evidence,” Natasha decided.

“Whatever you say, boss,” Tony sighed and started the vehicle.

They dumped the body into the concrete mixer at a construction site that Natasha guided him to just as the sun began peering over the horizon. Then, Tony drove them to a remote area and under Natasha’s watchful gaze, lit a small fire with the lighter Howard had given him as one of his sixteenth birthday presents. He turned to her and held out a hand expectantly. She handed over the Super Soldier serum, and one by one, they placed the bags over the fire and watched the liquid sizzle and hiss, blackening under the heat.

“That’s the last of it,” Tony said, exhaling and feeling a monumental weight lift slowly from his shoulders.

 _It will always pass,_ Ed had said. To a degree, he had been right.

“What now?” Natasha asked quietly.

Tony looked at her, saw the same fear and uncertainty reflected back at him, and gently took her hand. She had made her choice, and now it was time for him to make his. Natasha was too young to be sent off on her own, no matter how certain Tony was of her survival. No, he would have to keep her at his side, but how? A stray thought entered his mind, Maria had always lamented never having a daughter… and with his parents alive, his previous freedom growing up would surely become more restricted. Tony could use someone to distract Howard and Maria, and keep an eye on them at the same time. It would be killing a whole bunch of birds with one stone.

Taking a deep breath, Tony asked, “how do you feel about changing your last name?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with an update for this fic, y'all!!!!!! 
> 
> Thanks for the lovely folks who did not give up on this one. I completely forgot about this hole that I dug like two years ago...
> 
> NOTE 1: ENTIRE CONVERSATIONS IN ITALICS ARE IN RUSSIAN!
> 
> NOTE 2: Tony is pretty much fluent in Russian, but Rhodey doesn't understand a word. 
> 
> NOTE 3: Vasily Karpov was the guy who activated the Winter Soldier at the beginning of CA:CW if you guys don't remember. He was in charge of the Winter Soldier program at the time. He was tortured and killed by Zemo later in the movie. 
> 
> ENJOY and leave me some love!!!!

When Tony finally drove them back to his storage unit, it was well past noon. He was exhausted from the crashing adrenaline and lack of sleep. The four cups of coffee he had chugged along the drive did nothing more than make him extremely jittery and flop sweat behind his balls.

“Holy...” The words died in his throat when Tony lifted the metal door and found half a dozen uniformed men lying motionless around the Winter Soldier who sat with splayed legs in the middle of the corpses, long brown hair clumped with what Tony strongly suspected was drying blood.

“Hydra came to reclaim their weapon,” Natasha murmured as she calmly took in the bloodbath and the prone Soldier, “It seems that they failed.”

At the mention of Hydra, Barnes’ head whipped up, his dark empty gaze zeroing on the little girl at Tony’s side with scary intensity.

 _“Little Spider,”_ The Winter Soldier hissed in Russian and went for the gun on the nearest corpse.

Tony flinched violently when the bullets whizzed past him, the rapid firing of the handgun deafeningly loud in the confined space. Jaw set mulishly, the Winter Soldier emptied the first clip into the wall where Natasha had been standing a second ago. He ignored Tony’s alarmed yell and rose ominously to his feet. Tossing aside the empty gun, the Soldier wrestled one of the semi-automatic rifles from a dead Hydra agent and slowly made his way over to the shadowy corner where Natasha had disappeared to.

“Don’t do this,” Tony didn’t know what gave him the courage to jump in front of the brainwashed assassin, but when the hard, unyielding barrel of the rifle pressed warningly into his sternum, the Soldier did not pull the trigger.

 _“Stand aside,”_ The Winter Soldier said coldly.

Heart hammering in his chest with renewed hope, Tony lowered his voice and said as soothingly as he could muster, “sun’s gettin’ real low, big guy…”

The gun lowered slowly as the Soldier studied him in silence. Tony tried to smile, but the next second, the man’s combat boot connected solidly with Tony's midsection and all the breath left his chest in one massive whoosh as he crashed head over heels into the storage boxes.

“Alright, I’m fresh out of ideas, Sputnik,” Tony panted as he rolled to a messy stop next to a crouching Natasha. He wiped sweat out of his stinging eyes and wheezed, “you got anything?”

“Really, you were really dumb enough to think that setting sun bullshit would work on the Asset?” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Language, you little gremlin!” Tony scolded as he got back onto all fours with difficulty, “also, I leaned that from you.”

“Liar, I would never teach you something so pointless,” Natasha dismissed. She pulled something out from beneath her dress and said grimly, “There is no other option, Stark. We must kill him.”

“No, no killing!” He gasped, yanking the dart from her tiny fingers. To his horror, she produced another one almost instantly.

“What the hell do you have under that dress, kid?!” Tony wrestled the second poisonous dart from Natasha, grabbed her around the waist, and dived to avoid the flurry of bullets from the pissed Winter Soldier.

“We are only making him angrier!” Natasha yelled. She cried out in pain when the Soldier tossed aside his gun and grabbed her roughly around the wrist with his metal hand, plucking the small child from Tony’s arms. He pulled a thin serrated black knife from an ankle holster, and ignoring Natasha’s struggling efforts, pinned the little girl against Tony’s metal work table.

Tony’s voice shook through the trigger words. He hated the way they sounded past his bleeding lips, but the Soldier froze nonetheless, his blade poised inches from Natasha’s pale, wide-eyed face. The Winter Soldier’s hand was shaking around the knife when he gritted out in Russian, _“ready to comply.”_

Tony had to wonder how many times they had to hurt him to brand that command so deeply into the man’s psyche that it still remained after each mind wipe.

 _“Let her go,”_ Tony commanded, voice cracking.

He approached them cautiously, and when Tony eased his fingers around the Winter Soldier's wrist, past the gloves and pressing against shockingly soft and warm skin, he could feel the man’s thundering pulse underneath. That little detail was a glaring reminder that this was a man, made of flesh and blood, not a machine, a man that Steve Rogers loved with all of his being.

A tear slid free from Natasha’s red-rimmed eyes, leaving a gleaming wet trail along her temple and disappearing into her fiery red hair.

“Bucky,” Tony whispered the nickname, his thumb pressing soothing circles into the soft skin of Barnes’ inner wrist, “please let her go...”

The Winter Soldier abruptly released the knife. It clattered to the ground and Natasha was up in the blind of an eye, kicking the man sharply in the shin and throwing her arms tightly around Tony’s aching abdomen. He put a hand to the back of her head and felt the scared little girl muffle a loud body-wracking sob into his shirt. Tony’s other hand was still around the Soldier’s wrist, keeping him tethered to the spot. The vicious rage seemed to have left him, and when Tony finally gathered the courage to meet his gaze again, those blue eyes stared back at him blankly.

“Really, nothing? Damn, and here I was hoping for the same effect as Rogers when I said the magic word,” Tony bit his lip. He squeezed the Soldier’s wrist gently and said in Russian, _“stay.”_

Tony managed to pry Natasha loose from around his waist and hoist her into his arms where she immediately buried her face in his neck, hot tears soaking the collar of his sweaty shirt.

“Shh, it’s gonna be ok, baby girl,” Tony patted her awkwardly on the back as he rocked side to side. No matter how much training she had gone through, Natasha was still just a six-year-old child. He hummed gently and carded his fingers through her soft red curls. They stayed like that for a few more minutes before she calmed enough to stop hiccupping hysterically every five seconds.

Natasha drew back and aimed a watery, accusatory look at him, “I told you we should have killed him.”

“No can’t do, little Russian psycho. He’s not the enemy,” Tony said firmly. Natasha sniffed and let out a big shuddery sigh as she went limp in his arms again. She pressed her soft wet cheek against Tony’s stubbled jaw and peered at the motionless assassin staring back at them.

“What do we do now?” Natasha asked, rubbing at her left eye with a small fist.

“I don’t think you’re gonna like what I have in mind, sweetheart,” Tony murmured.

Natasha glanced down at the dead bodies on the ground, her little arms still wrapped tightly around Tony’s neck, “you want to find the guys who ordered the killing of your parents, don’t you?”

“You know, I really do think we were meant to be siblings, Nat,” Tony pressed a soothing kiss to her temple, “what do ya say we go visit that concrete mixer of yours again?”

Natasha sighed.

 

* * *

 

“How’s this?” Tony held up the beaker of blue liquid for the little girl to examine. He couldn’t recall the exact shade of blue the Super Soldier Serum had been, but he reckoned it didn’t really matter as long as it looked good enough to bypass Hydra security.

“It looks fine,” Natasha confirmed and handed him the empty, unmarked blood bags they had stolen from the nearest hospital. Surprisingly, they had not encountered any police resistance along the way. The little office at the entrance of the storage units had been empty when Tony and Natasha drove past to dump their first load of enemy corpses. He had a strong suspicion that Hydra had something to do with the absence of law enforcement in the area. The lack of disturbances was definitely to their advantage, but Tony couldn’t help but wonder what they did to the owner that Natasha had knocked unconscious yesterday.

While Tony busied himself filling up five bags of blue copper sulfate solutions with the help of his robot children, Natasha went to town on the pile of tactical gear they had stripped from the Hydra agents, wiping off blood and isolating the less bullet-ridden pieces. She had made friends with the portable toaster and was in the middle of a very one-sided, very animated conversation as she scrubbed vigorously at the helmet in her arms. Tony stopped trying to eavesdrop on them after Natasha ranked her fifth favorite way to kill a person as ‘heavy metal poisoning.’ The other four were also poison-related. Tony was really starting to see a pattern here.

The Winter Soldier sat across the table from him, gazing quietly off into the distance. There were dark purple shadows beneath his eyes and a line of sweat was starting to form along his temple. He looked as exhausted as Tony felt.

“Hey, why did you want me to find two whole sets of gear?” Natasha asked suddenly.

Tearing his gaze away from Barnes, Tony cleared his throat, “uh, we’re gonna need some extra help with this mission, kiddo.”

“What extra help?” Natasha set aside the helmet and wandered over. Tony carefully laid the five duplicate Super Soldier Serum bags inside the silver briefcase they bought from the corny magic shop thirty minutes from Tony’s storage space. It looked pretty convincing if Tony was to be honest with himself.

“Trust me, you’re gonna like him,” He smiled and slammed the briefcase shut.

 

* * *

 

“Christ, Tones, please tell me you did not kidnap a child,” were the first words out of Rhodey’s mouth when he took in their battered and bruised appearance. The two of them were sitting outside a 7-Eleven with a huge bag of McDonalds takeout between them. Tony had decided to leave the Winter Soldier in the car for safety reasons. Besides, he had not reacted at all when Tony asked him if there was anything he wanted. Natasha was sucking on a jumbo-sized milkshake on the bench next to him, her chubby cheeks bulging as she peered silently up at Rhodey’s distressed face with calm green eyes, a pink Disney princess themed Band-Aid taped over her left eyebrow.

“Want some fries?” Tony asked, holding up a few lukewarm potato wedges like a peace offering to the gods.

“Tony, _did you_ call me out here in the middle of the night because you kidnapped this child?” Rhodey, the rigid, no-nonsense old fart, persisted.

“No, Rhodes, but thanks for the ringing endorsement, this is Natasha,” He rolled his eyes and winced when it made his dizzying headache considerably worse than before. Come to think of it, he might be coming down with a concussion. Natasha took a large noisy pull on the straw and let out a quiet burp. Tony smiled, “Nat, meet James Rhodes, aka Rhodey. My best friend, moral compass and nagging wife.”

“You still haven’t told me who she is, Tony,” Rhodey stressed, folding his arms over his chest. Natasha took one of Tony’s outstretched peace fries, pried open the lid of her shake and dipped it inside. Tony silently shook the rest of the fries at his best friend. Rhodey sighed and took them when he realized Tony was not going to stop. Tony wiped his oily fingers on a napkin and motioned for Natasha to lift her chin. Still chewing, the little girl complied. He gently wiped the melted milkshake off her face. Rhodey’s expression softened slightly.

“You might want to sit down for this,” Tony patted the bench next to him, but Rhodey chose to sit on Natasha’s other side instead.

“Oh my God, Rhodes, I did not kidnap her!” Tony rolled his eyes at the suspicious look on his best friend’s face and nudged the little girl beside him, “tell him I didn’t kidnap you, Sputnik.”

“He didn’t kidnap me,” Natasha muttered past a mouthful of food.

“Ok…” Rhodey still didn’t look convinced, but he did open his palm for Natasha to pluck more fried off of, “so, why did you call me out here to the middle of nowhere, Tony?”

“How’s my mom?” Tony asked, draining his seventh cup of coffee of the day. It tasted like crap, but at least it was keeping him semi-awake.

“She’s stable, still unconscious, but the doctors say she’s going to wake up soon,” Rhodey said, “your dad’s business partner came by, you know, the one that looks like Jeff Bridges. He dealt with the hungry press outside.”

“Is Obi still there?” Tony demanded, feeling a stab of alarm.

“Yeah, but I have a few trustworthy friends from the academy watching your parents. Oh, and a Miss Peggy Carter also dropped by. She said she was an old colleague of your dad’s? She and your dad's partner both asked me where you were, but I lied and said I didn’t know,” Rhodey said, frowning at Tony’s strong reaction, “what’s wrong? You think they have something to do with your parents’ assassination attempt?”

“Peggy too, huh?” Tony bit his lip, “Honestly, I don’t know if they knew anything. I just…it’s been a lot over the past twenty-four hours, Rhodey.”

“Tell me about it,” Rhodey whistled low under his breath, “how are you holding up, Tones?”

“I’m fine,” Tony said, trying internally to come up with the best way to convince Rhodey to join them. He was about to open his mouth when his parked car let out a loud angry honk.

“Oh shit, almost forgot about him,” He flinched and shot to his feet, “come on, Nat, you can finish eating in the car. We don’t have much time left.”

“Who? Did you kidnap someone else? Tony, what is going on? Who’s in the car?” Rhodey stood as well, clearly alarmed by Tony’s erratic behavior. Tony ignored his question in favor of picking Natasha up in his arms and one-handedly packing away the rest of her half-eaten burger. A middle-aged woman let out a scandalized gasp when she spotted the three of them. She put a hand over her young son’s eyes and quickly shuffled off after giving them a scathing look.

“Seriously? I forgot how homophobic the nineties were,” Tony muttered under his breath before yelling loudly after them, “what? Never seen two men with a kid together? Well, lady, you’re gonna hate the year 2015, I’ll tell you that! Also, Captain America’s most likely gay, too. Just so you know!”

“Tony,” Rhodey grabbed him by the arm, jaw clenched, “your zipper’s open.”

“Oh,” He looked down at where his pink flamingo patterned, boxer-covered crotch was making a valiant escape out of his jeans and was currently merrily saluting the world.

So...he might have just flashed his junk at an innocent lady and her young son and then yelled at her for being a homophobe.

“Yikes,” Tony said in the ensuing silence. Rhodey sighed.

“I should zip up,” Tony cleared his throat and passed Natasha over to him, “here, hold my kid.”

 

* * *

 

“This is insane!” Rhodey exclaimed when Tony finished telling him the story, minus the time-traveling component. Nobody knew that bit.

“Hey, what did I say before we got into the car?” He tapped his thumb over the steering wheel to the loud Led Zeppelin song blaring from the radio, “we leave that hurtful, judgmental attitude of yours outside, remember Rhodes? This is a safe space.”

“Cut the hippie bullshit, Tony, you can’t just expect me to go along with this! Someone has to be the voice of reason and make sure you don’t kill yourself!” Rhodey yelled, his arms tightening around Natasha who was seated in his lap instead of the backseat with the silent Winter Soldier.

Tony glanced briefly back in the rearview mirror and said in Russian, _“put on your seatbelt, Soldier.”_

“Does he only speak Russian?” Rhodey frowned, following Tony’s gaze, “also, why are you babysitting the scary dude who was sent to kill your parents? Shouldn’t we call the cops?”

“And hand him straight back to Hydra all wrapped up like a pretty present? Hell no,” Tony muttered and turned a corner on the dark empty country road, “look Rhodey, I don’t have the time or energy to explain _everything_ to you right now. You just have to trust me. We won’t get another chance like this.”

“Like what?” Rhodey whispered as their car came to a jarring stop.

“That there,” Tony got out of the driver’s side and pointed to the massive Hydra aircraft he and Natasha had found a few miles away from the storage containers.

“What the hell?” Rhodey breathed as he wandered over to the dark stealth plane, Natasha still held securely in his arms.

“They sent a tactical team to retrieve their weapon, which is currently sitting in our backseat, and this,” Beckoning to his best friend, Tony lifted the trunk of the car and pulled out the silver briefcase. “This was why they sent the Winter Soldier after my parents.”

“You’re going to give the Super Soldier Serum back to them?” Rhodey asked in disbelief.

“No, relax. Nat and I burned the real serum. This here is a dupe that I made with a bit of shit in my lab,” Tony said, shutting the briefcase and setting it on the ground beside him. “We only need it to convince them that the Soldier’s original mission was successful and give us a chance to infiltrate one of Hydra’s headquarters.”

“And how are we going to do that?” Rhodey narrowed his eyes.

“Sputnik, we talked about this, you know the drill,” Tony said, snapping his fingers to get the little girl’s attention. Natasha rolled her eyes and wriggled out of Rhodey’s arms. She stomped a few feet off and turned her back resolutely to them.

“No peeking, baby girl,” Tony called cheerfully after her and dropped his pants. Rhodey was now staring at him like he had just completely lost his mind. Grinning, Tony tossed him one of the Hydra uniforms in the trunk of the car and clapped him forcefully on the shoulder, “suck in that gut and suit up, Rhodes. We’re going on an adventure!”

 

* * *

 

“ETA six hours,” Tony said and put the plane on autopilot. He hopped out of the pilot seat and wandered to the cargo bay where his three passengers were silently seated. Natasha had passed out from exhaustion the minute they lifted off and was breathing evenly in Rhodey’s arms, her cheek pillowed on his chest. The Winter Soldier was seated stiffly across from them, his hands on his knees and back ramrod straight. Tony sighed and grabbed a bottle of water from the wall. He unscrewed the cap and approached the motionless assassin cautiously.

“Hey bud,” He tried to smile as he held up the bottle, “want some water?”

The Soldier did not even look at him. Tony exchanged a glance with Rhodey who was watching them with a worried frown. He lifted the bottle to his own lips and took a sip, pasted on an even more inviting smile, and held it out again, “See? Not poisoned. Come on, you don’t want to get dehydrated.”

Still nothing.

“Alright, let’s reconvene at another time,” Trying not to feel disappointed, he stood. The Winter Soldier lunged at him when he turned to leave, and Tony barely muffled his shout of alarm when the man’s flesh hand wrapped around his wrist in an iron grip.

“Everything’s fine,” Tony hissed at Rhodey when his best friend tensed and made an aborted move toward the gun next to him. Heart pounding, he turned back to the Winter Soldier. “I’m not trying to hurt you, just wanted to give you some water, ok? I promise.”

Dark blue eyes flickered to the water bottle in Tony’s hand. The Soldier swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing silently. His blank gaze settled on Tony’s face, but he did not let go. Tony was suddenly hit with an idea.

“Please don’t kill me if I spill water on your clothes,” He murmured as he lifted the water bottle to the Winter Soldier’s cracked lips and poured a bit of its contents into his mouth. The Soldier swallowed obediently, eyes fluttering shut. Tony fed him about half of the water in the bottle before he decided it was enough. if Barnes had been recently pulled off the ice for the mission, it was not wise to give him too much of anything.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it now? You did great,” Tony praised, setting the bottle aside and patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. The Winter Soldier was still watching him with hooded eyes.

“Gotta let go of me, baby,” Tony said, trying to fill the silence between them, “daddy needs both of his hands to fly the plane.”

It took him a further five minutes to escape the death grip around his wrist, but when he did, something akin to disappointment flickered over the Soldier’s face before his expression smoothed into nothingness again. Tony took a deep breath and carded shaky fingers through his hair.

“Wow,” Rhodey said drily from across the cargo bay, “you two really got the whole Beauty and the Beast thing going on, huh?”

“Hey, Belle’s not so bad, and that film won an Oscar,” Tony muttered, distracted. He exhaled heavily and wisely put some safe distance between himself and the Winter Soldier.

“So, what are you going to do with them after this?” Rhodey asked, shifting cautiously and easing a sleeping Natasha into a more comfortable position. Tony reached out and gently tucked a red flyaway curl behind her ear.

“I’m going to keep them,” He said with a shrug, “both of them.”

 

* * *

 

“This is such a stupid idea, Tones,” Rhodey murmured as he pulled the mouthguard over the lower half of his face and put on the night-vision goggles. With all the tactical gear over his face, he was nearly unrecognizable. Tony silently memorized the number on Rhodey’s lapel — NX609. His own uniform read NX615.

“Hey, don’t fucking jinx it, asshole,” Tony muttered back as he secured his own headgear. Natasha was a tiny tense shadow beside him. Tony bent to give her a silent thumbs-up. She squared her shoulders and lifted her skirt to show off the poisoned darts and array of mini throwing knives she had strapped to the pair of black shorts underneath.

“Jesus Christ, kid. Remind me to teach you not to show your knickers to every boy you meet,” Tony sighed, resisting the strong urge to palm his face.

“Did you just say ‘knickers?’” Rhodey asked incredulously. Tony flipped him off and turned to face the silent figure standing behind him. Barnes was frowning, had been since Tony covered up his face with the Hydra gear.

“Hey Handsome, Rhodey and I are NX609 and 615. Remember to wait for my signal, ok?” He said, catching the man’s right wrist and pressing his fingers over that sliver of bare skin, “I promise we won’t leave you behind.”

The setting sun was starting to turn the distant clouds red when their plane touched down on the airstrip in the Hydra base deep in the Russian mountains. He picked up the duplicate briefcase and handed it over to the Winter Soldier, “time to earn us that Oscar for Best Actor.”

 

* * *

 

They passed through Hydra security so smoothly it was like a dream. But then, who would really doubt the two uniformed Hydra soldiers walking diminutively behind the actual Winter Soldier and a Red Room agent in training?

Tony made sure to keep his response at a minimum when one of the men nodded at him and briefly inquired where the rest of the team was. That potential conversation was snipped in its bud when the Soldier turned his dead-eyed stare on him and the Hydra agent swallowed before he stammered a quick apology and ushered them along.

Tony kept his grip on the gun in his arms as they followed the Winter Soldier into a wide bunker. He noted the thick metal door and its massive spring bolt as it clicked shut behind them with grim finality. The room was mostly empty except for the cruel-looking chair in the center and a few scattered monitors. The scientists and Hydra soldiers froze when they spotted the Winter Soldier. A tall, mustached man in a red Russian Armed Forces beret stood from his desk and approached them.

Tony understood about half of the clipped Russian words that came tumbling past his lips. He was asking something about a mission report. The Winter Soldier lifted the briefcase in his right hand and tossed it onto the nearest table, making a few stray scientists jump at the loud bang. The man’s thin lips lifted in a small satisfied smile when he eased it open and saw the five bags of blue liquid nestled inside.

 _“Good, Soldier,”_ He said softly in Russian. That Tony understood.

 _“Go sit,”_ The man, a young Colonel Vasily Karpov in his prime, Tony just realized, said gently, jerking his chin at the machine in the middle of the room.

The Winter Soldier hesitated for a fraction of a second, his gaze flickering to Tony who had no choice but to shove him forward with the end of his gun. Karpov watched the brief interaction with his hands folded behind his back, dark eyes unreadable. Tony swallowed thickly behind his headgear and shoved Barnes again.

 _“Escort him to the Chair, NX615,”_ Karpov ordered Tony before turning to Natasha, _“Hello, l_ _ittle one. Hydra appreciates_ _the Red Room’s willingness to offer their aid.”_

Tony kept his attention partly on the conversation behind him as he guided the Winter Soldier to the mind-wipe machine. Barnes’ blue eyes flickered to him again, this time the panic and fear was painfully evident in his pale, gaunt face. Tony bit his lip behind his mouth guard as the men in lab coats fell upon the seated assassin like vultures upon an injured animal.

 _“Move aside,”_ One of the scientists rudely elbowed him out of the way.

The Winter Soldier’s eyes were still glued to Tony as they began to roughly strip him of his bullet-proof armor. He was close to hyperventilating, Tony could tell, when they shoved him onto the seat and closed the metal clasps around his wrists. A loud hollow ringing noise was starting to take over inside Tony’s skull as he stared at their eager sadistic smiles. Barnes made a strangled sound of stress in Tony’s direction, the tendons in his neck straining as he struggled uselessly against the bindings. His eyes were wet and pleading.

 _“Answer when being spoken to, NX609,”_ Karpov’s annoyed voice across the room briefly penetrated the fog of fury that had settled over Tony’s senses, and he looked up to see Rhodey’s shoulders tense at the angry Russian words and Natasha grit her teeth, fingers starting to inch toward the weapon stash under her skirt.

The loud sound of a hand connecting with skin brought Tony’s attention back to the Winter Soldier. His head whipped violently to the side as one of the lab coats delivered a stinging slap to his face.

 _“Be still, dog,”_ The man hissed in Russian.

When the Soldier next lifted his head, the person behind his eyes was no longer there. He did not try to look at Tony again. The piercing ringing noise in Tony’s ears was rising to a crescendo.

“Alright, fuck it,” He said and lifted the rifle. Tony took aim and pulled the trigger.

The man who had slapped Barnes crumpled to the ground, half of his head blown away in a spray of red and white. Tony had not fired a weapon without the aid of his AIs for a long, long time, but standing this close and with the element of surprise on his side, taking care of a few Hydra scientists was like shooting fish in a barrel.

Karpov yelled something from across the room and suddenly there were soldiers dropping in from the ceiling. Tony heard more gunshots, shouts and screams, but he ignored them all. Taking a deep breath, he threw himself at the computers securing Barnes to the chair. A bullet ricocheted off of the side of his helmet and Tony stumbled. The computer was one of those crude old things with ancient codes in tiny green Russian script.

“Shit,” Tony yelled, ducking again when another bullet hit a little too close to home. He pressed a couple of keys, and when nothing happened, abandoned his plan and scurried back to the trapped Winter Soldier.

“Hey, now’s probably a good time to channel your inner Hulk, babe,” Tony whispered to him encouragingly. Barnes snarled and ripped the whole armrest off on his left side, and using his metal fingers, pried his right wrist loose from the shackles.

“Go get ‘em, Terminator,” Tony offered up his own gun. Well, it was more accurate to say that the Soldier ripped it out of his hands before he could offer it, which he totally would have.

All around them, the red emergency lockdown lights and alarms were going off like crazy. Tony sneaked a quick glance at the heavy metal door and crawled back to the computers, empty-handed.

“Come on, brain. Don’t fail me now,” He murmured and got to work cracking the lockdown code. He was almost done uploading the commands when he heard the loud sound of a gun being cocked.

“Get up, SHIELD agent,” Karpov, bleeding freely from a cut on his left cheek, aimed the barrel of his handgun between Tony’s eyes and snarled.

“Hey, I’m not affiliated with those assholes,” Tony couldn’t help but snap back. Karpov kicked him in the stomach. Tony winced and reluctantly got to his feet. The man wrapped an arm around his neck and pressed the gun to Tony’s temple.

“Drop your weapons, or I will shoot your accomplice,” Colonel Karpov yelled in heavily-accented English at Rhodey and Natasha who both paused and turned to face them.

“Sorry guys, I really hate to be the cliché damsel in distress, but yeah I’m gonna need a little hel— ” Tony groaned when the arm around his neck tightened, choking off the rest of his words.

“You are one ugly damsel, I’ll give you that, Tones,” Rhodey panted, frowning as he laid the gun at his feet and pulled off his goggles.

 _“You too, little one,”_ Karpov switched to Russian, his eyes narrowing at Natasha who seemed to be having a huge internal struggle weighing whether Tony’s life was worth parting with her weapons.

She eventually lowered them with a thunderous scowl and held up her hands.

 _“The ones beneath, too,”_ Karpov snarled, _“remove them all.”_

“She’s a little girl, for Christ’s sakes, don’t make her undress in front of a whole bunch of grown men, you perv,” Tony yelled, wincing when the gun dug deep into his skin over his temple.

Tony registered movement in the corner of his vision, and Karpov twisted them to face the Winter Soldier who had stood up, his expression unreadable behind the curtain of filthy brown hair.

 _“Soldier, I command you to kill them,”_ Karpov said, his voice shaking a little, _“did you hear me? Kill the SHIELD intruders. Now!”_

“Do you have the trigger words memorized?” Tony piped up suddenly.

“What?” The Hydra sleeper agent behind him froze, “how do you know about— ”

“Yeah, that’s just laziness on your part,” Tony said as the Soldier advanced on them.

Karpov pulled the gun from Tony’s temple and let loose a few wild shots at the Winter Soldier. One stray bullet clipped his metal shoulder. Barnes jerked at the impact, but it did nothing to deter him. Tony used the distraction to head-butt the man and shove him away. He was half-blinded by the ensuing pain, but it was worth it when the Winter Soldier stalked past him, yanked away the gun, and with cruel efficiency, snapped Karpov’s wrist with his metal hand. He tossed the weapon aside and grabbed the screaming man around the throat. Tony was on all fours, head throbbing and trying not to puke up the half-digested McDonalds rolling around in his protesting stomach when the shrill screams suddenly cut off with a wet, ominous gurgle, leaving them with the steady _drip drip drip_ of something in the distance that Tony was two-thousand percent sure was blood.

“I’m ok,” He said when Rhodey helped him upright. Even with the splitting headache, he still managed to choke out, “there’s a little red book somewhere in here, leather bound with a star on the cover. Anybody seen it?”

“This?” Natasha’s voice bobbed closer. Tony slit open one eye, and for a dizzying moment, he managed to focus long enough to see it.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” He smiled at her when she handed it over, “thanks, sport.”

Tony patted Rhodey on the arm and hobbled over to the Winter Soldier who was still standing immobile over Karpov’s corpse. Tony tried not to look at the man’s mutilated skull when he took the Soldier’s human hand and began to methodically strip the blood-soaked glove off of him. Barnes did nothing to stop him. When he was done, Tony wedged the small notebook into Barnes’ palm and pulled out his old man’s lighter.

He held it out to the Soldier, “come on, it’s time we set you free. Want to do the honors?”

The Winter Soldier stared blankly at him, lax fingers warm against Tony’s. He sighed and took Barnes’ hand between his own. With a bit of fumbling between the two of them, Tony managed to flick the flame on.

“Together then,” He decided and lit the small ledger on fire.

They watched in silence as the bright orange tongues licked at the pages, slowly blackening them and turning the terrible secrets written there into grey dust. When it became too hot to hold, Tony forced the Soldier’s fingers to let go. The little leather book dropped to the ground, its pages gone, and its covers burnt beyond recognition. Barnes’ fingers were still tangled in his, but the Soldier made no move to pull away.

Tony stomped out the flames when he deemed it thoroughly cooked and looked up with a bright grin, “well, that was a super sweet ending to such a violent tale, wouldn’t you agree?”

The Winter Soldier was still staring at him, but his expression had softened considerably.

“Hey Sputnik, you doing ok?” Still smiling triumphantly, Tony called out to Natasha. He turned to look for her and the dizziness that had briefly subsided came back with a vengeance. Tony saw Rhodey’s alarmed face before the ground came rushing up to meet him and everything faded to darkness.

When he next woke, Tony was carefully cradled in someone’s arms. He groaned and spotted Rhodey walking a little ahead of them. The acrid scent of smoke and fire was overwhelmingly strong, but so was the cold crisp mountain wind.

“Where are we?” He lifted his head from its spot against the Winter Soldier’s shoulder.

“About to get into the plane that took us here. Your homicidal friends wouldn’t leave without burning the entire place down,” Rhodey murmured, twisting to smile wearily at him, “you got any additional requests before we lift off, Tony?”

“Nah,” Tony slurred with a laugh, head lolling back against the solid warmth of Barnes’ chest as he closed his eyes, “take us home, flyboy...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help taking another jab at the stupid corny 'sun gettin’ real low...' thing.
> 
> "It doesn't work!" - Said Thor, Wade Wilson, and now Tony Stark
> 
> What do you think so far?


End file.
